Love burns in a young man's heart,
He would give her the moon and the stars,
And all the 
Treasures of the 
Pharaohs for a moment in her arms;
To the Ball with him she will go, if her brings a red, red rose,
But there is only a rose of white in his garden green;
And calling up to the sky, the birds heard his lonely cry;"Sing for her sweet Nightingale, tell her of my love,Bring for her sweet Nightingale a red, red rose of love;Said the tree to the Nightingale,"
Upon this thorn you must impale your heart,
And then the blood will turn this white rose red;"All night, the little bird sang,But in the morning she was gone,And beside her on the ground lay a red, red rose;When the boy found it there, joy came from his despair;"
You sang for her, sweet 
Nightingale,
You told her of my love,
You bring for her, sweet 
Nightingale,
This red, red rose of love;"So he brought her the beautiful rose,"
To the Ball with me you will go,""
But no," she said, "
I have jewels instead,
Another has won my heart, and from you,
Now I must part, so take your foolish rose and go!"Sing for her sweet Nightingale,Sing from Heaven above,Bring for her sweet Nightingale,The wisdom that is love, the wisdom that is love.